


Reconciliation and Truth

by Savorybreakfasts



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Broken Garak, Earn Your Happy Ending, Happy Ending, M/M, Maybe polyamory, Pining, Post-A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Post-Canon Cardassia, References to Depression, kelas parmak is a literal saint, possible OT3, sorry for the rating change can't resist smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-26 23:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12568784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorybreakfasts/pseuds/Savorybreakfasts
Summary: Julian reads the letter, and shows up. It doesn’t fix everything.





	1. Chapter 1

He came as soon as he got the letter. Well, as soon as he could. He had to ask for leave from Deep Space Nine, and there was the matter of ending things with Ezri. But he came. That was four months ago, four months of his six month volunteer assignment and still unsure of what would happen next. Four months of dust and exhaustion, of waking up most nights on the floor because being by another body was insufferable in this heat. He remembered the coolness of Garak’s body on Deep Space Nine. It wasn't like that anymore. Nothing was.

Garak had come to meet him at the Federation recovery headquarters when Julian arrived on Cardassia Prime. Julian saw him and quickly closed the distance. Before Julian could embrace him, Garak reached out a trembling hand to his shoulder.

“My dear. You look well.”

“Garak. My God, Garak.”

“Oh, come doctor, there’s no need for dramatics. I realize my scales might not have your youthful glow, but that’s simply because not much sun can penetrate this infernal dust, and I can hardly exfoliate or lotion anymore.”

Julian continued to stare.

“And as a doctor you must agree I had some weight to spare. Why, the past year has taken off every gram of spice pudding and chocolates I used to indulge in.”

He could see they weren’t going to address it, so instead he smiled heartily, clapped Garak on the shoulder and said, “Well, yes then. Shall we go to yours?”

The shed, surrounded by strange stone cairns and monoliths, shocked Bashir, but after the reception at HQ he knew better than to say so. They made light conversation over their scant meal, and later that night Garak fucked Julian with a frightening urgency. Afterwards he was quiet and withdrawn.

And so it went, week after week. Julian didn't even know what Garak wanted, besides their desperate and silent couplings. Absolution? Forgiveness for some unnamed crime? Because he didn't seem to want love, not really, not what they had had before it all fell apart. On the rare days they spent together he withdrew for hours on end, not talking or eating. When he did speak he lashed out at Julian, then wept and begged forgiveness.

Julian was tired. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, stretched his shoulders. Thought about going home. Garak would be there, but what Garak would he find? He remembered the first days of withdrawal, the cruelty. He thought it merely a symptom. He thought that he would endure anything to have Garak by his side. He hadn't realized the love he had until those hours in Garak's quarters, over his sleeping form. Chasing away Odo, chasing down Enabrain Tain, realizing he would do anything, anything for this man. Believing that would be enough, that Garak’s trust would surely follow. It never did in their two years together; by the time Garak left the station there was barely a friendship. 

Then Garak sent that letter. And all of it came flooding back--what he felt those hours in Garak's quarters, what he felt when he held his hand and promised forgiveness. And so he showed up on Prime just as he'd shown up to the Arawath colonies. And when he'd arrived Garak had already put his wall up. Julian remembered Garak's placid smile the day he appeared at the replimat after the crisis had passed. It had made him doubt his own memories of Garak's vulnerability. This time he had it in writing. Sometimes after Garak went to sleep he reread the letter, sitting in the chair by the bed as Garak tossed and muttered. Julian searched for intimacy in the words on the page, felt closer to the Garak in his letter than to the man in bed in front of him.

How could he stay? What was there to keep him here? But how could he leave when he seemed to have been given a second chance?

He put his question aside and left the medical camp to begin his trudge through the dust back to Garak. He could think about it tomorrow.

He didn’t think about it then. Or the next day, or the next. He’d gone to work, gone back to Garak’s shed, eaten stale rations and scrubbed the grime off himself with a damp flannel, laid in silence next to Garak and had not addressed the question, “What am I going to do?”

The new shift of Federation doctors had been there for a week before anyone really noticed that Bashir did not socialize with them. One of the doctors, a young human, broke the ice.

“Where do you go every night? You’re not bunking with us and you don’t spend any off hours here.”

Julian smiled. “I’m staying with a friend. A Cardassian. I knew him before all of this.”

“Oh. Well, that’s no reason you can’t have a drink with us. We have real alcohol, you know, and not that cough-syrup they drink here.”

“I rather like kanar.”

Their eyes met and Julian smiled, genuinely this time. Human eyes, warm and brown. For a moment he felt at home. 

“Are you from London?”

“Yes! You are as well?”

“I left so many years ago it feels like another life.”

“Ah, but you’re always from where you’re from, yeah? It’ll always be home on some level.”

“I don’t know.”

“Stay for that drink with us. I’ll tell you all about what’s happening there. You look like you could use a reminder of good days and good places.”

Julian agreed. As they cleaned up at the end of their shift, Damon asked, “You sure your Cardassian friend won’t mind you getting home late? Should we invite him?”

“Garak? No, he won’t mind, and I doubt he’d want to come. He’s not much for socializing anymore.”

Julian shook his head quickly, chasing away any thoughts of Garak.

“Let’s find that bottle you were telling me about.”


	2. Chapter 2

Drink after drink, the room dissolving, edges softening, everything warm. The rest of the staff was gone, the two men sitting on the floor, legs sprawled in front of them, leaning against the wall.

When had Julian last felt like this? Drinking with Miles before he went back to earth? At the memory of Miles he started singing, “Jerusalem,” their old favorite of a late night, and to his surprise Damon joined in, harmonizing in a lovely baritone. Julian forgot himself and sang for real, not the bombastic joke-singing he and the chief indulged in, but sincerely and full of longing. 

There was an awkward silence when they finished the song. Damon broke it. “Must be a long time since you’ve seen any green and pleasant land.”

“Well, Bajor has both, but I didn’t get down there much. No, home has been a space station. And now there’s here.”

“Cardassia’s red and gritty land?”

“Not quite as nice a ring to it.”

“I for one am not missing England’s green and pleasant land right now. Not much excitement there.”

“Is that why you signed up?”

“Oh, God, that sounds shallow of me, but yes, I suppose so. Though ultimately we’re all here for our own reasons, aren’t we? I mean, if we’re honest. It’s the ones who are here to save the Cardassians we have to worry about.”

“Yeah, they’re not keen on being saved.”

“Well, would you be? If we want any lasting peace we need to find a way to help them rebuild with their pride intact then step the hell out of the way. Course, stepping out of the way isn’t the Federation’s strong suit.”

“And it shouldn’t be! The Federation is the best hope for peace and doing the most for the rebuilding! It’s so easy to be cynical, but I don’t have room for it, or for Cardassian resentment. I know it’s not the way I’m supposed to feel but God, we lost a lot too!”

“We didn’t lose our home.”

“No. Of course not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry I struck a nerve. I forget you’ve been doing this for much longer.”

Julian smiled gratefully, but didn’t answer. What could he say?

They sat in silence, Julian’s desire to touch his new friend’s soft human skin growing until it felt insurmountable and he leapt to his feet, then stumbled slightly.

“I have to go.”

“Your Cardassian?”

“I just have to go. I’m sorry. This was lovely.”

“Don’t mention it. Listen, I’m going to walk you.”

“No, I can make it.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Don’t worry, I’’ll walk you straight home.”

They walked back through the ruins in silence, Julian’s imagination spinning with fantasy of Garak seeing him with this lovely man, Garak raging, Garak declaring his undying love. As they approached the shed he muttered, “Look outside, you bastard.”

“What?”

“Sorry, talking to myself. Thank you. For the drinks and the escort….”

“Any time. I mean that. I’m here for six months. You?”

“No idea.”

When Julian walked in Garak was scrubbing the walls.

“This dust! You wouldn’t believe how it gets everywhere! Take your shoes off please.”

Julian stared incredulously, then removed his shoes and walked to the bedroom at the back of the house, fell onto the bed, curled on his side and waited for sleep.

He woke at dawn, Garak still tossing fitfully. Julian tentatively put his hand to Garak’s chest and rested it there. He stilled for a moment. 

“What am I going to do?”

He realized he’d spoken out loud, but Garak hadn’t heard him. Julian looked at his resting body. He didn’t look so wrecked anymore. Julian had been militant pushing food, bringing what Federation rations he could manage. He’d even found chocolates. The fever Garak had had that first day was gone, lifted by Federation medicine.

It was during that first week that Julian found out one of Garak’s only friends was a doctor. He sought him out that day and confronted him.

“How long has he been like this?” Unsaid was, how could you allow this?

Kelas Parmak smiled sadly. 

“I’m so grateful you are here. There have been days I’ve worried he was losing his mind. That letter he sent to you, the months writing it...sometimes it seemed like his only thread to reality. I was so afraid what would become of him once it was done and out of his hands. Then you came. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully express my gratitude.”

“But to answer your question—months. I’ve tried to help. He’s refused it. I don’t know how much Garak has told you about his past, our history...I believe he was trying to atone. I tried to convince him…”

His voice drifted off. Julian responded, “But he’s let me help him.”

“Yes. He has. And for that I am grateful.”

Parmak locked eyes with Bashir.

“What do I do?”

“Stay, if you can. He doesn’t have much, he doesn’t allow many people...you are so important to him, doctor. I’m sorry if he doesn’t tell you. But if you at all can, please stay.”

He had. Kelas Parmak’s hoped for renewal had not happened. Julian saw him regularly after their first meeting, and each time the plea to stay was between them, sometimes even said out loud.

This morning Parmak’s hope felt like an insult. _You try loving him. ___

____

Julian, of course, realized his anger at Kelas was wildly misplaced, under the circumstances even cruel, but couldn’t seem to do much about the swirl of contradictory emotions he lived in these days, and there was a certain gratification in indulging it.

____

He left Garak sleeping and headed in early to work.

____


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Kelas Parmak decided he wanted in this story. I had to change a few lines in chapter two to let him. He's worth it.

Julian had not been prepared for Kelas Parmak. For everything in Garak’s tome, he was not prepared. He was older than Garak even, far older than Julian. He was gentle. Julian knew how he had known Garak, and that he had forgiven him. As Julian was struggling to forgive Garak for bringing him to Cardassia and ignoring him this seemed quite remarkable.

One day over tea he worked up the nerve to ask. 

“Do you love him?”

“Of course.”

“Then why do you want me here? Why do you keep asking me to stay? I would want me on the first shuttle out of here.”

“Would you? You saw him when you got here. You see him now.” 

Kelas held his hands up as if it were all self-evident, and Julian felt a mounting frustration.

“Oh, c’mon. No one is that selfless.” 

_I’m not that selfless. I can’t handle not being the center of Garak’s attention because he’s in pain. To just give him up?!_

____

“He loves you. And I love him.”

____

Julian held eye contact until Kelas looked away.

____

“That isn’t the whole story, is it?”

____

“It was. It was the whole story when I met you.”

____

“And now?”

____

“Now I find I don’t want you to leave. For you.”

____

“You—you want me here?”

____

“I would never do anything to hurt Elim, and I want you here because he loves you, but yes, I also want you here for me. I enjoy talking to you. I...I enjoy looking at you.”

____

Julian thought that were he a better man, this would be the part where he admitted how much he enjoyed Kelas looking at him. But he wasn’t, so he let Kelas’ revelation stand alone.

____

He thought about it, though. It entered his mind almost as often as his concern for Garak. He found himself looking at the doctor’s eyes more. Gray-green, soft, the surrounding scales and ridges weathered. He wondered what he saw when he looked at Julian. _Oh, for God’s sake, he sees a pretty thing, what else. _But he suspected this wasn’t true.__

____

____

____

He wanted to talk to Garak about it, but then, he wanted to talk to Garak about absolutely anything, and that wasn’t happening. So he continued, trying to be strong for Garak, and relying more and more on Kelas’ strength, but never talking about it again.

____

____

____

He found himself spending more time looking at the doctor’s hands. They were beautiful. They were old. He was expressive with them, fluid in a way that seemed almost un-Cardassian. He liked to touch, to lay his hand lightly on Julian’s arm, to grasp his hand when the conversation started to weigh heavy.

____

____

____

He found himself thinking about Kelas’ shoulders. Broad, his gray hair brushing against them. He wore higher neck tunics than was fashionable; he favored rough woven linens and knitted wool. His shoulders invited touch, invited leaning into. Sometimes when he left Garak’s bed to toss on the floor, he imagined leaning onto Kelas’ broad chest. He let himself imagine strong arms around him, and fell asleep.

____

____

____

And now he was considering leaving Garak; he was considering sleeping with this beautiful human, and the thought stopping him was Kelas.

____

____

____

_What would Kelas Parmak do? ___

____

____

____


	4. Chapter 4

All morning long he was acutely aware of Damon’s presence. Sensing his body from 10 feet away, smelling salt and musk and practically feeling the droplets wetting his skin….Julian shook himself when realized he was fantasizing about sweat. It didn’t help.

This man was beautiful. Confident, brash even. Their drunken conversation had revealed there was no one back home, he was free and there and so immediate and present.

 And oh, God he was trying not to compare. Trying not to contrast the excitement he felt, the glow, with the sinking inside when he walked into the shack he shared with Garak. Tolan’s shed, Garak had told him. In his letter he had been frank, confiding, and Julian had felt the solidity of the man himself, the safety he imagined Garak felt there. In person Garak said nothing, and the shed felt barren.

 What would Tolan say if he could see his home now? If he could see Garak?

 Julian shut his eyes and imagined him. Showing Elim how to grow Edosian orchids, trying to show him how to follow a different path than Tain’s. What if he had?

 They never would have met. But could Garak have been happy? Perhaps that path would have been better. A picture forms in Julian’s mind. The shed, built into a proper house, greenery all around. Garak in the garden. Someone in the house, cooking. He opens the door in his mind’s eye and sees Kelas Parmak, who looks at him and smiles.

“Lunch?”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry, I was somewhere else.” Julian felt his face flush. To have missed Damon coming to stand beside him after a morning obsessed was rich. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure if I’m hungry, or if I should take a break right now--”

“Did I do something wrong? Last night. You seemed, well, interested, frankly.”

“Ah. I’m sorry. I was. I am, actually. And, well, I shouldn’t be. Or, I mean, maybe there’s nothing wrong with it, but things right now aren’t really in a place in my life for any complications. God, that sounds dehumanizing. I don’t mean you’re a complication. You’re a person and I quite like you--”

 “Stop. Please.” Damon smiled and drew a breath. “I’m not offended. You’re not doing anything wrong. And we can still have lunch, you know. I’ve been told I’m good company.”

“I’d like that, but maybe tomorrow? There are some things I need to sort.”

He spent all afternoon rehearsing the conversation he needed to have with Garak. _Garak, we need to talk._ Oh, God, no, he couldn’t do that. _Elim, love, I’m worried about you._ He could hear Garak’s blithe dismissal. What could he even say, anyway? _Love me, damn it. Show me love._ He sounded like a petulant child. _Get better, please, please get better._ Ah, and there was the truth of it. What he needed to ask for and couldn’t. At that thought Kelas Parmak came back into his mind.

Julian got home early and found Garak out front digging in the dirt. Planting something?

“Hello, dear. Kelas came by. He brought me these succulents, he thought they would take here.”

 Julian dropped to his knees in wonder. Garak was almost glowing, reddish sun sparkling on his scales.

“My dear, are you alright? Did something happen?”

 Julian grabbed him by his shirt front and pulled him in for a kiss.

 “Nothing happened. Nothing happened at all. Oh, God, Elim. You’re here.”

 “Where else—?” Garak bit off the remark when he saw the cloud in Julian’s eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been present. Oh, my dear Julian. I haven’t…”

“We can talk later.”

 “We have a lot to talk about. Julian, I haven’t…”

 “I know. But can we talk later? Do you need to talk now? We can talk now, but I just—“

 “I know. Yes. We can talk later.”

 Julian stood and pulled Garak to his feet, and they push-pulled their way into the house, tripping over their feet, stopping to kiss. Once inside Julian pushed Garak against the wall, digging his fingers into neck ridges.

 “Garak. I want to fuck you.”

 “Yes, yes.”

Julian pulled Garak’s shirt over his head, pulled it down his arms halfway, leaving him almost bound. He checked in with a questioning look.

“Yes. Please. Please, my dear.”

Julian grinned and commenced to pull down the dirty trousers, leaving them pooled around his gardening clogs. He laughed—Garak in gardening clogs?! He lifted one foot out free from the trousers, then the other, shoving them to the side.

“How on earth? Or Cardassia?”

“Kelas brought them too. He said they’d be good for my knees. Does that really matter right now?”

Julian smiled and put his mind and his mouth back to the man in front of him. He began kissing and nipping at his ankles, moving up his legs.

“Kelas is concerned about your knees? Hmm. I’ll have to kiss them better. I’d hate for him to worry.”

He kissed one kneecap, then the other, then licked the ridge that lined his thigh from knee to hip.

When he reached his hips he inhaled deeply. Garak’s smell. Oh, he loved it. So rich. So different. Sometimes he missed the scratchy feeling of hair on his cheek, burying his face into a nest of curls. Sometimes he missed the feeling of a human prick. Sometimes he missed the smell of a woman.

He’d trade all of it for Garak, but maybe he didn’t have to.

 “Julian. I’m going to evert.”

“God, yes.”

 And there it was. He’d felt Garak’s penis slam into him, but he hadn’t been allowed here since he arrived. He took it in his mouth and hummed in bliss. He licked the center ridge, rolled his tongue around the head, pulled back and tongued the slit.

“Julian,” Garak gasped.

“If you still want to fuck me you’d better stop.”

Julian grinned and stood up. He kissed Elim deeply, then kicked off his own pants.

Garak never needed much preparation. Having his own lubrication was quite lovely. Someday he should write a paper on this. Interspecies relations, comparative anatomy and sexual response. He pushed Garak’s legs apart with his knee.

“How much do you want this?”

“So much. Please.”

He bent his knees, put his hands under Garak’s ass and lifted him slightly, then brought him down on his prick.

Garak let out a wordless cry and Julian thrust upwards, hard.

 “Yes, please, please my dear.”

 “Put your legs around me.”

 Garak looked alarmed. Julian could read his thoughts on his face--Elim’s hands were still pinned behind his back, he’d have no leverage if he did that. Julian imagined him asking what sort of athletics he expected out of this aging body, only he didn’t say that, or anything, just looked at Julian with raw desire and alarm.

“You know I’m strong enough. You know I can hold you up.”

Julian tightened his grip on Garak’s ass and he lifted his legs around Julian’s hips.

“I knew you could do it. You’re so strong, Elim.”

Julian thrust hard, and again, and found a rhythm to fuck Garak into the wall. He squeezed his ass, bit his ridges, and buried his face into his neck. He could feel the burn in his arms and legs and for once felt grateful for his engineered strength. _Reckon you didn’t think this would be what it was good for,_ he thought with a vicious thrill. _Fucking my Cardassian lover._ He felt the whole world open. He drove himself into Garak’s body chanting _yes yes yes._ To everything.

 They would have to talk about it. There was so much to do. Finding a new place to live, unless Garak had hidden skills as a builder as well as a gardener, which wouldn’t surprise Julian at all, in which case he could turn this into a home.

And Kelas. They would have to talk about Kelas. The brightest picture Julian could form of a future for them, of a home, had Kelas right at the heart of it. His thought from this morning, _you try loving him,_ echoed back, but sincerely, with tenderness. _You try loving him. You try loving us. You loving us. Yes._

He had never imagined he would be able to open his heart to a possibility like that. But then, he had never really imagined any of this, and here he was.

“I’m going to come.”

Garak’s whole body was trembling.

“Yes love. Yes. Come for me.”

He held Garak tight, covered his mouth with his own as he screamed out his orgasm. His own followed closely.

He held him for a moment longer, then Garak slid his legs down and leaned against the wall, taking his weight from Julian’s body, then slid to the floor. Julian sat down by him and pulled him into his arms.

For the first time in months the future, while still full of questions, existed for them. Julian held Elim tightly, and smiled. There was so much to be done.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
